


Toy Soldier: Humanity and His Mask

by Happylittleaddict, ShyChangling



Series: Toy Soldier [4]
Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Gen, Stockholm Syndrome, okay just the faintest start of it at least
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-23
Updated: 2018-08-23
Packaged: 2019-07-01 16:30:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15777834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Happylittleaddict/pseuds/Happylittleaddict, https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShyChangling/pseuds/ShyChangling
Summary: A monster takes pity on his charge. He does not know why. Maybe the old remains of his humanity.





	Toy Soldier: Humanity and His Mask

**Author's Note:**

> Okay it has been along time I know! But stuff got in the way so here's abit of a side chapter that we couldn't quite put in the main fic at the moment. So how about here.

Palomo wakes to a numb body. There’s someone down by his legs. Palomo sits his head up to see a sown up wound in the middle of his left thigh, under suit cut off modestly just above the stitches. He flops his head back, whatever he was given at least made it so the pain was mostly invisible to him. He can see a tall man bandaging his leg. His head is blurry, he thinks a moment of him looking like his faintest memory of his brother. He almost calls the name but he remembers better of himself, his brother has been dead for years. He tries to motion to what he’s sure is a medic that he’s awake. He’s trying to remember where he is, he doesn’t recognize him and then he remembers the night before and the interrogation that followed.

Palomo tries not to panic. He’s with a medic, even if it’s the enemy, medics don’t normally hurt people. Felix is nowhere to be seen, a big relief. He feels his voice catch in his throat. He knows he’s supposed to be numb but the body starts to ache, may be wearing off. He wonders if he’ll still be able to walk after this. His upper arm still won’t move much and it knocks over a light that was brought in for the dark room. That seemed to catch the other’s attention. “H..hey,” Palomo tries to sit up again. “I’m starting.” His voice catches in his throat, “starting to hurt.” He can’t seem to stop a stutter.

“Stop moving.” The person says catching the light before it hit the floor and broke. Even without the filter the voice very distinctly belonged to Locus. He hadn’t expected Palomo to wake up so soon then again that's to be expected when using expired medicine. He dug around in the large box of medical supplies he had to see if he could find anymore, wouldn’t do to have him squirming while he worked.

There's silence. Palomo tries moving his arm back onto his bed. It was strange seeing the machine without a mask. Palomo shuts his eyes keeping his panic down. Locus was much too close for his comfort. "You're not a medic. Get a medic." He scrunches up his nose, scared yes but he had some bite to him.

Locus looked at him, “if we wait to fix this till we can find a medic the damage will likely be permanent.” He responded finding a bottle near the middle of the box. He pulled it out and got a dose out for Palomo. “You have two choices. Take this and let me finish with minimal pain or don’t and I finish this anyways.” Locus said giving him a choice.

Palomo looks at the bottle. "Do I have to take it dry?" he looks at the pill and already could taste the bitterness of it. "Can't I get a glass of water." He wants to shut up but he feels like he needs to chatter from his nervousness.

Locus thought a moment and nodded, “as long as you comply, if you don’t this will likely be much more painful than it has to be.” He said getting up and going to grab one of the bottles he had brought with him. Was it really a good idea to be showing Palomo this much compassion, considering what Felix had done someone had to. He thought as he knelt down next to the bloodied soldier. “Do you want help sitting up?” He asked him his head tilting slightly making the loose hairs from hit ponytail shift into his face.

Palomo scrunches up his face. He looks to the water and contemplates. He first tries to sit up himself but his body aches and he lays back. Charles would rather not drink it laying down and sighs out. "I'll need help, but," Palomo pauses not sure if can really be making any orders. "But don't linger your hands on me once I'm up."

Locus shifted setting the bottle down before getting a hand under Palomo’s back lifting him so he was in an upright position. He slowly moved his hand away from him just to ensure he could hold himself up.

Palomo wobbles slightly and shakes his head feeling dizzy. He leans forward more and keeps himself up. He takes one hand out for the water. This, this feels too normal. Palomo doesn't like it. "I'd like the water now."

Locus hands him the bottle of water along with two tablets from the pill bottle, it should still work fine. He hoped it did, he didn’t want to make the pain worse, even if it was for the sake of healing properly.

Palomo carefully takes both. He shoves the pill into his mouth and quickly opens the bottle and drinks it down. He coughs once and holds his eyes to Locus. He remembers how bare his legs are and tries to ignore it again. He tries not to think to much on how he had to have it cut off him. To have the enemy's work on him in a unconscious state. Why couldn't he have been with a medic. Why the fuck did it need to be Locus.

Locus sighed a bit and moved back to the box of supplies to double check he had everything he needed for this procedure. Hopefully the sedatives worked properly, hopefully they wouldn’t wear off before he was done stitching the wounds that needed them.

Palomo stays sitting up a moment. He watches Locus shift through the supply box and takes a deep breath. He lays back down slowly. Should he put up a fight, is he doing something wrong? Should he say something, snark, bite. "I'm surprised you know any first aid. All you do is kill." 

“You do not know my past.” Locus responded not looking at him simply setting aside the needles and sutures he needed along with gauze to cover the worst of the wounds. He didn’t expect Palomo to know that though, he did not expect him to know how many times he had patched up teammates during the war, or how many times he had tended to Felix’s various wounds during the time after. No Palomo had no way of knowing he had once been a decent person, that he hadn’t always been a ruthless soldier following every order to a T.

"I don't care about your past, monster," Palomo winces a moment, but it was partially a lie that he didn't care. But all Palomo knew was of the present. Of the genocide on his home. Of all the evils the Pirates committed and some of which he still blames on the Federation even with the light of the Mercancies working behind the scenes to do the worst of the damage to the planet and people.

Locus hummed a bit “I wouldn’t suppose you would care much.” He responded fixing his hair to keep it out of his face while he worked “how are you feeling?” He asked him wondering if the pills had started taking effect yet.

Palomo stutters a moment. He didn't catch what he meant at first till he remembered he took something for the pain. "My legs alittle numb," he turns his head to look away at the wall. He bites his lip thinking. Trying to remember what all happened that night. "I'll be able to walk right." Last thing he remembers Felix tried to cut off his tendons in the ankles.

“Yes. I stopped him before he did anything that would disable you.” Locus responded and threaded the needle. Felix had been pretty pissed about him interfering but he hadn’t wanted Palomo injured that badly, it would have been a waste of potential.

"Why," Palomo says softly. To hang it over his head? As leverage? "I would of assumed you'd just let it happen."

“Because I am not that kind of soldier.” He responded simply and started stitching the wounds.

"Not what kind of soldier?" Palomo scrunches his face up. He winces slightly feeling the needle in his leg briefly before the feeling fades away. "One that stands by and lets tragedy happen. Bad news for you, you're already that soldier."

“You being disabled would have been a waste of potential, not a tragedy. I have been witness to enough tragedy to know that.” Locus responded a bit harshly, it didn’t carry the same weight as it did when he had the voice filter, that annoyed him a little.

There's a loud angry huff and then a laugh. "What potential? The potential of a fuck up who threw himself out a window?" Palomo almost feels like crying.

Locus simply shrugged as he continued to stitching him. He was done talking, there was little point at the moment anyways. It wasn’t likely he would get far in this conversation if Palomo kept being a snarky little shit. It was honestly getting a bit annoying, so he chose to focus on the wounds.

"All I was doing was what any other soldier should do. Take attention away from their leader and then hope for the best," Palomo murmurs. He lays his hands on his stomach and turns away. But there was one thing Palomo was shocked by was that instead of being yelled at the room simply went silent. He expected maybe to have his wound squeezed or to be slapped for talking back. Especially seeing as he's a prisoner.

“A soldiers first concern should be their objective. Nothing more nothing less. Leaders are nothing if all their men are dead.” He responded after a few minutes. He knew how these people had been trained, it was bothersome to him, not how soldiers should be trained. They should be trained for preservation of themselves first and preservation of the whole second. Though at all times they should think about preservation of the many. Otherwise what was the point of a war? Then again this war was not meant to be won by either side so it didn’t matter much.

"I'm not important. Why do you care to correct me," Palomo wanted to sink into the bed. Away from him. Locus may have a point but Palomo still has his. "I'm a good enough distraction, and Washington and Tucker had the experience to help with the war. There for I die and the army still has someone to teach it how to survive." There wasn't anything he could do. He was a lousy lieutenant

Locus sighed heavily as he finished up the stitches and disinfected the rest of the wounds one last time before covering them. “Do not sell yourself short.” He said finally and packed up the supplies.

"Again, why do you care?" Palomo looks down and carefully sits himself up. "You'll just end up killing me eventually when the interrogations run dry."

Locus shrugged again not saying anything. Let him believe that for the time being. If he believed that he wouldn’t question his motives for keeping him alive, those were questions he hadn't even managed to answer for himself.

**Author's Note:**

> Hopefully the main fic will be getting an update soon. We are still working on some plot building and how to integrate certain plot points.


End file.
